The next few days were pretty uneventful, aside from my parents' reaction at finding Tom's letter. Basically, it just said that he was sick of them and was leaving. Naturally, they were really upset about it, but there was nothing they could do.

Tom's friends were mostly Controllers, and had no idea what had happened to him.

My parents did call the police, but the police were far from helpful. Their response was essentially, "This is your problem if your kid ran away." Especially since there were no leads, no possibilities as to where he could have gone.

I visited Tom whenever I could, usually by myself, but sometimes with one of the other Animorphs. I brought him food, mostly, but also books and some games that he used to like. We thought that, maybe, he could teach them to Toby, who in turn could teach them to the other Hork-Bajir. Most of the rules were pretty simple.

I always went Yeerk at some point during the visit, usually when Tom wanted to talk about something in private. The Hork-Bajir were convinced that we were not Controllers, but they still kept a close eye on us. I guess Tom just felt most comfortable keeping things head to head. I didn't mind, and given what he had gone through (for I was beginning to see hints of this simply by absorbing his thoughts), I felt it was a small thing to ask.

Even so, I was beginning to worry. I wouldn't go through Tom's memories, and had no idea how to even begin to approach some of the things he had gone through with Innis and Temrash. Often, flashes would come back, usually unexpected. Tom would cower in his mind, and I would try to distract him, but to no avail. They always came, and always weakened him. They may have been only memories, but these memories came from real, horrific events.

You need a Yeerk, I told him once, after a particularly horrible memory attack, as Tom called them. Someone who can help you deal with this. Someone with experience in this area. Our best hope is the Peace Movement, but at this point, it is just too risky. I can be there in the meantime, but…

I know, Jake. He sighed. We had had this conversation before. I just hope this war doesn't go on for much longer.

A few of Tom's friends (Controllers, I assume) were starting to get worried after a week of his not showing up. One of them even asked me—cornering me would be a more accurate description—if I was sure I had no idea where he was. I played dumb, and said that maybe he was dead by now, or something.

This seemed to make the Controllers happier. But then I realized that even if the Yeerk had starved, Tom would go free. And that meant they needed to be on the lookout.

I discussed the problem the following weekend.

"So," I finished, "the Yeerks are still suspicious of Tom's sudden disappearance, and while they won't be able to find him, it means more trouble for us. His friends have been after my parents and me a few times this week, asking if there was any news."

"He's safe, though, isn't he?" Cassie demanded.

"Yes, but it's only a matter of time before someone lets something slip," I admitted. "I don't know how Tom's Yeerk lived with me for nearly two years and didn't realize something suspicious was going on, but I honestly don't think the others are that stupid. A missing Yeerk and a missing host seems pretty suspicious."

"We can't kill him," Cassie stated, "but it seems like we'll need to do something. Maybe get him in contact with the Peace Movement?"

"How?"

"Illim would know someone. I'll talk to him about it."

I nodded. That seemed to be our best solution.

Tom must have noticed that something was wrong, because that was the first thing he said.

"Midget, are you okay? What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it."

"When you seem this upset, I think I should." He paused. "What if I morph Yeerk?"

"Can you?" I asked, bewildered.

"I acquired the dead one after you gave me the morphing powers. Wasn't sure if it would work or not, so I didn't say anything. Yesterday, I tried morphing it. It was really disgusting, but it worked."

"Great," I muttered, "so now you can invade my privacy like I've been invading yours."

Tom frowned. "Midget, you know that's not what I meant." His voice was calm, controlled. "And I would never search your memories without your permission."

"They're pretty much everywhere," I sighed.

"I still think it would be a good idea," he pressed.

"I'm just not sure if it's a good idea for you to know about this."

"If it's making you this miserable, I think I should know."

"Fine, go ahead. I don't care."

As I watched the changes begin, it occurred to me how easy it would be to just step on Tom when he was in Yeerk form. All of our problems would be solved. There wouldn't be any more risks.

Except…then everything would have been pointless. And I loved him. I didn't want my own brother to die.

I took a deep breath, and looked at the slug that was currently plopped on the grass. I picked it up, carefully, and stared at it. I sighed, and put Tom up to my ear. He began to crawl in.

I had been a Controller once before, but had never experienced the sensation of a Yeerk actually crawling into my ear. Connecting to my brain. Making me lose control, little by little.

I knew it was automatic. Knew that Tom would let go once he was fully connected, and that he wasn't Temrash or Visser 3.

It still freaked me out.

Once Tom connected, he was too much in awe of the senses (especially site) to be too aware of me. I could hear him murmuring, "This is awesome," as he moved my feet, or opened my eyes.

Tom, I finally spoke after a few minutes. Tom!

My voice pulled him out of his reverie.

Sorry, Midget, he replied sheepishly. I guess I lost control.

Looks like you had it down pretty well to me, I grumbled.

I heard that.

I figured.

You're not being very cooperative, you know, Tom sighed.

I fixed him a mental glare. Could you please let me have control over my own body? I snapped. I'm never this bad when I'm in you.

Hey, Midget, calm down, he soothed, loosening himself around my brain. It's okay. Relax. There, you're in charge, now. Happy?

I didn't answer him…or rather, I made a few snide remarks to myself which Tom heard, but I didn't direct them towards him.

You know, you're not being a very good host, Tom observed. Then laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Get it? Host?

Very funny, Marco, I grumbled.

He sighed and made me take a few deep breaths. Normally, that would have had a calming effect, but I was too angry that Tom was making me do so to notice if it helped.

He must have seen what a bad mood I was in, because Tom stopped the jokes. He was silent for a minute, then spoke up.

What's wrong? He wondered. The thought echoed through my mind. Jake, you can trust me.

I don't know, I grumbled. This isn't exactly easy for me. I guess it's because I was a Controller before, once. Or maybe because it's just hard at first.

Tom saw the images as I "voiced" my thoughts. He seemed horrified.

You…what!

I sighed, suddenly very tired. Tom started to make me walk, to move me to his bed, and I didn't object.

Almost two years ago. Your old Yeerk. We were on the hospital mission and I fell into the pool. My friends starved him out of me.

I would have never guessed. But how…

Ax posed as me for a few days. Your Yeerk told me I was talking weird and eating everything in site.

Tom frowned, and then shrugged. I don't remember. I'm never that aware of what goes on. Usually, I'm hiding in the corner of my mind, trying to avoid the Yeerk's torture. It always comes, though.

I had seem images of the Yeerk's methods for torturing. I didn't want to think about it just then.

And the phone call? I pressed.

Yeah, I got it. Wasn't sure if it was for him or not, but I tried to make myself think it was for me. That someone didn't want me… defeated. He paused, and looked through my thoughts. That was you, Midget?

Yeah. Partly in wolf morph. You know, to disguise my voice.

That was very dangerous, he admonished. If Innis had suspected it was you…

How could he? The wolf morph changed my voice so that it was barely recognizable. Besides… I trailed off, knowing he could hear the rest of my thoughts.

While he made no reply, I could tell that Tom did not approve. I tried to sigh, then realized I couldn't.

This did not improve my mood.

By now, we had reached Tom's part of the valley. It was pretty nice. I had bought a tent for him in case it rained, and it was next to the (messy) bed (old mattress that I found at a flea market with several blankets piled on top). There were a few posters hanging on the trees. There was a flashlight near his bed, and a few books to the side of it.

We're here. Now, rest, he urged.

Before I could form a reply, Tom made me lie down and tucked the covers around me. Had I not been so aggravated at the whole situation, I might have laughed. It was sweet in a way, really.

You're enjoying this way too much, I grumbled, trying to get up but unable to. Tom, quit it!

I'm trying to make sure you're comfortable, he explained, tucking in the blankets again.

I didn't want a nap.

I'll give you comfortable, I muttered.

Watch it.

Ow! I whined as he caused me to bite my tongue. What was that for? You know I can't control my thoughts, I pointed out wearily.

Okay, okay. Point taken. Sorry, he admitted, somewhat sheepish.

I tried to sit up again, but couldn't. Would you knock it off! I shouted.

I wanted to cry. My own brother thought that this was amusing. And here I was, powerless.

I tried to tell myself that he was just teasing. He wouldn't ever really hurt me. He was doing what he thought would be helpful.

It didn't work.

I heard his voice, gentle this time. Jake. Calm down.

He released control. I glared at him. Or, to be more accurate, I made a face while thinking negative thoughts about people who became Yeerks and invaded others' privacy. If I hadn't been so freaked out (and depressed) by everything, I would have probably found the situation funny.

Now, what happened? he asked, as though talking to a frightened child.

Just look through my memories, I grumbled.

Very gently, he looked through my memories until he saw the events of the past week. He played them, and then when he was done, he sighed.

Jake, it's not as bad as you think. Or impossible, he soothed.

Just find a Yeerk from the Peace Movement and then have you return? Make them think you ran away and Illim, or someone else, found you? I scoffed.

Jake, they're not going to press for details. Especially after I return, reinfested. Look, I have an idea…

I pulled the covers over me as he explained the plan. When he was done, I spoke.

I guess it could work. But I still don't like it.

If things are as bad as you say, Midget, we don't exactly have a choice.

I realize that.

Okay. I'll get out of your head now. I should probably demorph soon, anyway. But Jake?

Yeah?

Get some sleep. You're exhausted.

Finally, you've said something sensible, I muttered, closing my eyes.

A few minutes later, I felt something kick me on the legs.

"Hey!"

"Serves you right," he replied, smiling.

Then he hugged me.